Outcast
by Ookamifemale001
Summary: AU. Worf has accepted his exile from the Klingon Empire after refusing to join their ranks with the Cardassian War. However, when confronted with another young Klingon, a warrior also facing the burden of banishment, he will do whatever it takes to make sure the male can clear his name.
1. Chapter 1: Part 1

Chapter 1

"We're approaching our destination, commander."

"Perfect," Worf replied in the typical clipped tone that told of his discomfort more than the Klingon male was comfortable. "Keep her steady and prepare to hail the station."

"I appreciate you being willing to allow the Defiant to help in this mission," commander Dax replied with a knowing smile. "I'm sure it isn't easy being so close to the Klingon border."

Worf merely grunted in response, shifting his head to the side to pop the stiffness from his neck. He'd dealt with far worse than this. Still, the fact he was so close to his people during this turbulent time wasn't the smartest move to make. Unfortunately, the mission was more important.

The Klingons had declared war on the Cardassians, under the deceit of the Dominion. Luckily, they were able to discover the treachery and stop it before the Empire caused irreparable damage towards Starfleet. But, that didn't mean things had calmed.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Cardassia was demanding retribution and the Klingon Empire was not abandoning the new territories they had claimed, along with the captured peoples. That was where the Defiant was currently heading.

Dukat had sent word to Captain Sisko that they had received a distress signal from the Cardassian population on a moon not far from the Klingon battle-front that the planet they were orbiting had been taken into the Empire's custody and they needed supplies. The planet was their source for food and medical aid but with both in Klingon hands, there was no way they could go to the surface.

And, since it would be seen as a declaration of war for a Cardassian war-freighter to go anywhere near the moon, it was up to the station to supply the needed aid.

"The station is hailing us now," Major Kira informed from her seat. "I will answer to ensure the Klingons have the promised supplies. Be prepared."

No-one dared speak as the screen lit to show the face of a hardened Klingon male; an obviously battle-tested warrior. For a moment, Worf wondered what it would be like to stand where the male was. To glare and sneer at the Bajoran like she was a disease to be tolerated, instead of a warrior to be wary of. In another life, possibly.

"This is Major Kira Nerys of the Terok Nor station," the stern Bajoran informed. "We are here for the promised supplies, negotiated by our Captain Sisko, to be transported to the surrounding Cardassian colony."

"I know who you are, Major Kira Nerys," the Klingon male snarled across the screen, sharp sheet practically grinding in frustration. "And, why you are here."

"Then, you know we are awaiting your signal to dock," the Major pressed, deciding to get right to the point and make this conversation as quick as possible.

Worf could tell the mission wasn't to the Major's liking any-more than it was to him. The fact the previous rebel fighter had to be the one to provide aid to the Cardassians was no-doubt rubbing her the wrong way but still, her shortness in respect to the Klingons weren't going to give them much progress. But, Worf knew better than to point this out.

He was a strategist, not a diplomat. But, the delay in the Klingon male's reply had Worf's defenses start to rise.

"Yes," the male drawled, obviously in no hurry to do anything. "There is a change of plans on that."

"What?" Major Kira demanded, her head turning slightly as if she hadn't heard correctly.

Worf stiffened in preparation. He knew what was coming.

"You agreed to supply aid from the planet you are occupying," Major Kira quickly countered, "in order to prevent further confrontation with the Cardassian Empire."

"Correct," the Klingon male replied. "But, Captain Sisko did not inform us that….**he** would be here."

Practically swiveling in her chair, Major Kira glanced towards where the male was indicating. Worf forced himself to remain still, giving no indication as to whether the Klingon's reaction to him affected him one way or the other. To flinch would be a greater weakness than to die.

"Commander Worf is a Starfleet officer with the station," Major Kira explained evenly. "As well as, First Officer of the very vessel we are in."

"He is also a traitor to the Klingon race and an exile that is forbidden to ever enter the Klingon Empire again," the male returned harshly.

"Then, it is good this isn't the Klingon Empire," Major Kira snapped, her patience obviously wearing thin.

While the Bajoran had a point, the smug stillness of the Klingon male had Worf tightening his grip on his belt. For a Klingon warrior to remain silent at an obvious jab was…..unsettling.

"Yes," the male replied with a taunting calm. "Regardless, Klingon forces still occupy here and no exile will ever set foot among them."

"And, what do you suggest we do?" Major Kira challenged as she lifted her chin in defiance. "Your commander gave his word to send supplies and we are here to collect them. Has he gone back on his word?"

"Hardly," the warrior snarled, his previous calm dissipating like mist. "Our general keeps his word. We will shuttle the supplies to you, while you stay in orbit."

"That wasn't part of the agreement," Major Kira argued.

"And, yet, we are prepared and you come here demanding what we will give," the warrior countered with a huff. "Take it or leave it."

Worf could spot the Major's irritation at the turn of events but, truth be told it wasn't anything he hadn't expected. Already, he'd had the docking doors of the Defiant cleared, in case they weren't granted permission to land. However, the request was still worth a try.

Seeing no way around it, Major Kira nodded in agreement.

"Very well," she replied decisively. "We will await your vessel to hail us."

"Excellent," the male replied. "Oh, and you'll also be helping us with one other thing."

"I think we've given you enough concessions, already," Major Kira snapped.

"This….is non-negotiable," the warrior snarled in return. "You will get your supplies and we will be sending a few warriors to take something else to the very moon you are traveling to."

This suggestion caused the crew to exchange worried frowns before the Major met the screen head-on.

"And, that would be…?" she asked tightly.

"None of your concern," the male snapped. "It is Klingon business and obviously not within your understanding."

"Try me," Kira challenged.

The male's frustrated growling was expected but Major Kira wasn't budging an inch on this. And, by the looks Commander Dax and even Bashir's faces, Worf could tell the rest of the station's crew wasn't about to give either. For all they knew, it was a weapon being smuggled onto the ship.

"We have a traitor among our ranks," the male finally admitted. "An upstart that refused to follow orders. You will help transport him."

"What were his orders?" commander Dax asked, breaking the protocol of the conversation.

"It doesn't matter," the male snarled, with a flash of sharp teeth. "He raised his weapon against another Klingon in enemy territory and therefore has been stripped of his house and titles. You will transport the warriors guarding him to the wastes of the moon you are going to and they will leave him there. You will then return the two warriors back to our waiting vessel. Are we clear on this?"

"We are not prepared for transporting a prisoner," Major Kira argued, hands tightening on the armrests of the command chair. "Our hull is for supplies."

"Lucky for you, we are prepared," the Klingon male returned with a sneer. "Prepare to be boarded."

Immediately, the screen blacked out, leaving the bridge of the ship in a heavy silence.

"This is unbelievable," Doctor Bashir sighed with a shake of his head. "To suddenly drop a prisoner in our laps like that."

"Unfortunately, there isn't much that Klingons do anymore that surprise me now," Major Kira huffed as she quickly tapped in a message back to the station. "They're not even giving us the chance inform Captain Sisko of this mess before they board us."

"Probably to keep us from saying no," Bashir added.

Worf didn't suppose he could blame them. The Federation wasn't exactly willing to deal with the Klingons very often. But still, this was strange even to him.

"Are you alright?" commander Dax asked as she turned in her chair to face him. "I know this can't be easy."

Worf nodded.

"It is never easy to see a warrior exiled," Worf informed in a carefully measured tone. "But, if he truly did raise a weapon against a fellow warrior mid-battle, his punishment is a mercy."

"But, we don't even know why he did it," Dax argued with a quirk of her dark brow. "That doesn't interest you at all?"

"Not at this moment, no," Worf replied, keeping his features perfectly composed.

"Vessel approaching."

The call had Worf snapping his dark eyes to the main screen as he watched the Klingon Warship drawing ever nearer.

"Well, whether we like it or not, here they come," Major Kira informed as she rose from her chair. "Lieutenant commander Worf, shall we welcome our guests?"

Unwilling to show discomfort, Worf nodded as he followed after the Major. Once more, he would meet his people head-on; like any real Klingon would.


	2. Part 2

Part 2

Worf didn't like this. Not one bit.

However, whether he liked this reckless choice or not didn't make any difference. He was a Starfleet officer and would do his job. Still, something about all of this wasn't quite adding up.

The image of stoic indifference was a solid mask Worf had perfected years ago. It was the best way to show he hadn't lost all of his Klingon instincts. He'd need it if he was dealing with a recent criminal of his people.

He'd take the scorn of honorable warriors but, not from a fallen male. That was a disgrace he refused to stomach.

The signal of the hatch engaging was enough to snap Worf from his inner musings as he focused steady eyes to the opening loading door.

Major Kira shifted from foot to foot but quickly snapped to attention, lifting her head to a lofty height. That was good. It would serve her well.

Without delay, a handful of warriors pushed some mobile platforms through the main door.

None of them met Major Kira's gaze, whether out of irritation or sheer believe of superiority, who could tell? However, what frustration the Bajoran could feel over the blatant disrespect was pushed aside as she quickly instructed where to place the needed supplies in the hull.

To the warriors' credit, they obeyed without comment and limited snarling. That was expected.

What wasn't expected was the sheer speed in which they went about their task. It bordered on recklessness, like the warriors couldn't wait to leave the vessel.

This could possibly be explained by the uneasy relationship the Empire shared with the Federation. However, the way the warrior's eyes shifted from side to side….

They were nervous. And, a Klingon warrior was never nervous, especially before a rival. Perhaps this hadn't been a good idea, after all.

An enraged bellow thundered through the Defiant's hull, causing all present to turn and watch as two more warriors flanked a thrashing figure who jerked and snarled in a desperate attempt to escape.

The display was sickening to Worf's pride. Didn't this warrior care about his honor? To face punishment with calm strength was how all Klingon's were taught from childhood. However, this male was so desperate to break free from his binds, it was as if he didn't care how he was perceived; like he would revert to a coward before facing banishment like a grown male.

A particularly hard shove towards one of the warrior's holding him had Worf's patience snapping like a thread.

With determined strides, like a predator going for the kill, Worf made his way towards the scrambling group, to stop barely a breath away.

"ENOUGH!"

The roar had the male stumbling in his steps, causing the two to tighten their grip on his locked arms.

Worf was painfully aware of every set of eyes focusing on him, as if gauging what his next move would be. Worf was used to that but with a handful of Klingon warriors currently in his vessel's hull, it was best not to make this situation worse. However, at least the prisoner was now still….and quiet.

"You are a Klingon warrior," Worf snapped in a clipped tone, straightening himself to his full height. "Whether you are in the Empire or not, you act like it."

Now that Worf got a good look at the male, he was young. Barely old enough to truly establish a glorious fighting history but old enough to know what was expected of him. There was no excuse for this display.

"I am the first officer of this vessel," Worf continued, eyes narrowing in challenge. "That means I will do what is best for this voyage. If that means having you forcibly unconscious, I will order it. Understood?"

The male looked like he was ready to lunge at him but Worf felt a sense of satisfaction well up in his chest when he noted the younger warrior remained still. Sulking glares were the antics of children, not seasoned fighters.

"You face this with strength," Worf scolded as he lifted his chin higher, "not like a scared child."

Worf should have anticipated the male to react to the taunt. However, he didn't think the warrior would stoop so low as to actually spit in his face.

With reflexes Worf didn't even realize he had, he had the male flat on his back on the floor, his arm pressing across his neck as he struggled to shift from side to side.

"Worf, son of Mogh!"

The yell was from one of the guards, an older male that was already greying at his brow but obviously still quick for his age. The edge of a blade at his neck was testament to that.

"I am Trun, son of Sorak," the male informed, blade never wavering. "I mean no disrespect. But, I can't let you kill him here."

At first, Worf wondered what had the old warrior so ready to attack. He was only holding the prisoner still. However, a quick glance of the young male's wide eyes told Worf he was choking him to near death. Immediately, he removed his hold.

The prisoner gasped in desperation, eager to fill his constricted lungs with air. At the same time, the blade's edge moved away from Worf's neck.

"I know his disrespect was unnecessary," Trun continued calmly. "But, he is young and foolish. There is fire in his belly over this. Surely, you can understand that."

"I did not let fear over-take me," Worf snarled in return, taking a deep breath and rising to his booted feet. "There is a holding cell reserved for these….situations. Take him there."

The old warrior nodded as he and the other male grabbed up the still huffing prisoner.

"How did he get his scar?" Worf asked sharply, eyes following the other males as they started to make their way through the still silent hull.

They suddenly froze.

"I noticed it when he was down," Worf informed tightly. "It looks recent. And, untreated."

The younger escort half-snarled, half-sniffed in Worf's direction.

"An accident," the male sneered. "Someone's blade slipped."

"Did it?" Major Kira challenged, coming up beside the first officer. "I wasn't aware that was part of the Klingon customs."

"It was foolishness," Trun quickly informed, interrupting the younger male's reply. "Done in anger. But, not unwarranted."

Worf supposed that was possible. But, a wound like that was significant. It might as well have been a brand. Though, not enough to obscure the male's features, the angry-looking slash went from his brow to across his nose and down his cheek.

There was no way you couldn't see it.

"Who is he?" Worf demanded, daring the two males to defy it. "What is his name, to earn this?"

At first, it seemed like the two warriors would deny the request. However, after a moment's hesitation, the older warrior looked back over his armored shoulder.

"He is Pard, son of Ak."

It was like an asteroid struck Worf's stomach as he watched the males march from the hull.

A son of Ak. It couldn't be!

"Lieutenant?" Major Kira asked after who knew how many calls. "What is it?"

"I….. I wasn't expecting that," Worf informed, coming out of his shock.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Major Kira informed, her brow furrowing. "Do you know him?"

Worf shook his head. "Not him, his father."

"You know his father?" Major Kira ventured.

"Yes," Worf informed, taking a deep breath. "And, we may have a problem."

SSS

"An oath," Captain Sisko enquired from the Defiant's main screen. "You're sure?"

"I'm afraid so, Captain," Worf replied, fighting the urge to shift from foot to foot as the rest of the bridge divided their attention between himself and the station's Captain on screen. "This isn't something I can ignore."

"Well, I never expected that, Mr. Worf," Captain Sisko acquiesced. "Still…. This is the same Ak who aided your brother's return to the Empire?"

"He showed support," Worf quickly corrected. "Something he wasn't obligated to do."

"But, that hardly leaves you obligated to look after his family name," Sisko countered.

Worf supposed that was true. However….

"At one point, the House of Kravus, Ak's father, was a rival of my father's," Worf replied evenly. "When the House of Mogh was….divided, Ak could have done whatever he could to prevent my brother, Kurn, from succeeding within the Empire. He did not.  
'And, when I was banished, he gave his word that he would ensure Kurn didn't suffer for it."

"And, he kept that promise," Captain Sisko ventured with a slight sigh.

"To the day he perished," Worf confirmed.

"How old is this son?" Sisko asked as he sat back in his office chair.

"Old enough," Worf muttered. "This is no defenseless boy we are dealing with."

"But, that makes no difference to your oath," Sisko added.

Worf merely shook his head.

There was nothing more to say. It didn't make any difference. It had been years since he gave the respected warrior his promise to aid Ak's house if it was ever needed. And, it hadn't been needed….till now.

"There isn't much we can do to prevent them from fulfilling this ritual," Sisko replied calmly. "Certainly not without causing more harm than good."

"We could always make a round trip," Major Kira offered. "Bring the Defiant back and pick him up."

"And, take him where?" Dax added with a smirk. "His home planet? To the Station? Even if we save him from dying out in the wastes, there wouldn't be anywhere he could go."

"If he even makes it to the moon's wastes," Worf added.

"How do you mean?" Captain Sisko asked, dark brow furrowing. "You doubt they will do their duty."

"Not like that, Sir," Worf quickly corrected. "A Klingon warrior will always obey his orders."

"You just doubt what those orders were," Sisko added.

"The prisoner was…..maimed, Captain," Worf informed carefully. "Granted he's a fighter but, even if he was found guilty of the crime, no warrior worth his honor would purposefully wound a prisoner that way. It speaks too much of personal grudge."

"And, you would be quick to notice something like that," Sisko added in agreement.

"It is possible there is more to this than they are willing to admit," Worf replied.

"You think there could be problems within the Empire?" Sisko ventured.

"I couldn't say," Worf answered.

Worf didn't want to consider the idea. The Klingon Empire was still where he was born, even if it hadn't been his home for years. But, every Klingon still felt that urge to return, the call of the homeland to its warriors.

It was a torture Worf didn't wish on his enemies, much less the son of an ally.

"I will have to gather more information on the matter," Captain Sisko informed. "I still have a few contacts within the Empire. If you can buy me time, we can get to the bottom of this and figure out if it is worth our stepping in."

It was far more than Worf had expected from the Federation Captain.

"Sir, the moon we are heading for it but a few hours away," Major Kira countered. "How much time do you need?"

"A day should be enough, Major Kira," Sisko replied with a smile.

"A day?!" the Bajoran female gasped. "You want us to delay a handful of Klingon warriors a day?"

"Three hardly makes a handful, Major Kira," Sisko countered calmly. "Besides, you said they are counting on you to fly them out in the middle of nowhere, correct?"

"They asked for transportation, yes," Kira answered.

"Then, you can still dock and deliver the supplies needed to the population," Sisko replied. "Just delay requesting to be refueled."

"You don't think that would seem suspicious?" Doctor Bashir asked.

"If supplies are short, it stands to reason fuel would be low as well," Sisko answered. "Tell them the Cardassians won't have the needed fuel till tomorrow and you can happily send them out then.  
'In the meantime, keep them close. I imagine they wouldn't be in a hurry to leave the vessel on foot, anyway."

"Yes, sir," Major Kira agreed, lips pressed firmly together in displeasure.

When the screen cleared to show the dark expanse of space, the Bajoran female quickly turned to snap her gaze in Worf's direction.

"I hope these instincts of yours are right," she huffed with harmless irritation.

"You and me both, Major Kira," Worf agreed.

"So, who gets to break the news to our new guests?" Major Kira asked, looking about the bridge in challenge.

"I'll do it," lieutenant Dax offered as she stood. "I'm familiar with breaking news to Klingons; bad news especially."

"I'll go with you," Worf offered, turning towards the bridge door.

"You'll do no such thing," Major Kira commanded, her tone hard as bat'leth steel.

Worf froze mid-step, back straightening with indignation.

"I am the first officer of this vessel," he growled.

"And, I am your Major Lieutenant," Kira countered. "Are you disobeying my orders?"

"It will seem odd if I am not present," Worf replied, trying a more diplomatic reasoning.

"It will be more odd if it looks like you are eager to be around them," Major Kira replied. "We can't make this seem like you have any part of this. Besides, you have a duty to this mission, Mr. Worf. This vessel is to deliver supplies and you are to oversee that mission completed.  
'Let Lieutenant Dax take care of the rest."

Worf knew it was the truth. He couldn't show favoritism, even if it was to those he disliked. But, the chafing of it was still raw against his pride. Still, Major Kira was right. The mission was first. Always.

Nodding stiffly, the Klingon lieutenant took his place on the bridge, eyes focused sharply on the screen before him. A gentle but firm hand gripped his forearm folded behind him.

"Don't worry," Lieutenant Dax replied in a soothing playful tone. "I know how to show the proper respect. They'll have nothing to fault me on."

Except that she wasn't Klingon.

But, Worf merely nodded in agreement as the Trill female moved calmly towards the bridge doors. There was no point in pointing out that detail. Whatever was necessary to buy time was in their favor. Till then, he'd do whatever it took.

He just hoped Sisko got his information in time.


	3. Part 3

Part 3

"This is an outrage!"

"Can't something be done about this?"

"I'm afraid not," an unfamiliar female replied smoothly from the other side of the cell door. "The response was pretty plain to our…problem."

Pard snorted with irritation as he swiftly lost interest in the conversation. Their problems meant nothing to him. He had his own to deal with.

Already the pulsing pain in his face was starting to work its way deeper into his head, like his very skull was beating like a heart. It made it more difficult for him to concentrate but pain was nothing new to a Klingon warrior.

Betrayal, however…

"What do you mean we have to delay the mission?"

Nilvir's sniveling whining snapped Pard from his dark thoughts. The male always hated anything in his way.

"Just what I told you," the female answered like an amused mother. "We can't refuel till the new shipment comes in tomorrow and, without that fuel, there's no way we can make it out to the moon's wastes and then return you to your base."

"Why didn't you take that into account?" Nilvir snarled in irritation.

Pard chuffed under his breath. The warrior was an idiot!

"How could we?" the female challenged. "We weren't planning on transporting a prisoner when we accepted the mission.  
'Of course, if this isn't satisfactory to you, you could always **walk** to the middle of nowhere and back."

Pard had to give the female credit. She had courage, even if it was foolish for anyone outside of the Empire to try and put Nilvir in his place.

The warrior was an idiot but even a blunt object had it uses. And, Nilvir's was simple; he was a terrifying force in battle. However, it seemed Trun wasn't about to let Nilvir have his way.

"We took them by surprise," the older warrior reasoned calmly. "They have been cooperating with us, we can give them the same respect."

Respect. Pard was starting to wonder if that even existed on this ship.

The moment that disgraced traitor, Worf, had heard Pard's name, he should have demanded to have him released from this humiliation. Of course, the other warriors wouldn't listen to a traitor and would ignore him. Then, the traitor would demand a challenge. Which would result in a fight and give Pard the chance he needed to escape.

But, Worf had done none of this. Instead, he'd guided them where to put Pard and left him to a fate he didn't deserve.

Respect was a joke on this vessel. A Federation vessel!

No-matter. Pard would escape. He'd escape and see to it Warlord Kravus met the justice he deserved for this. He just needed the right opportunity.

"In the mean-time, you're welcome to what hospitality the Defiant has to offer," the female offered. "That is, unless you wish to find such amongst the Cardassian post."

"You think we fear the Cardassians?" Nilvir challenged.

"I think you fear nothing," the female countered. "Even foolishness."

"We accept your hospitality," Trun quickly answered. "There's no reason why we can't rest a day before fulfilling our duty."

"Not that you need it," the female added in a teasing tone.

It caused Pard's eyes to narrow in suspicious confusion. Why would this female try to relate to them? She wasn't Klingon and practically every other race knew to stay away from them. However, whatever her reasons were, one thing was plain to Pard. This vessel was up to something and that could be to his advantage.

Now, he just had to wait for the opportunity to present itself. And, when it did, he wouldn't hesitate. Not again.

SSS

Worf knew it was a bad idea. He knew he had to stay on alert and keep a clear head before he got word from Captain Sisko. However, it didn't stop him from sitting at the bridge of the Defiant, downing cup after cup of blood-wine from his chair.

Worf had done his part in over-seeing the unloading of the supplies and Doctor Bashir and Lieutenant Dax were out seeing would possibly require medical assistance. Major Kira was who knew where and the rest of the crew was out of sight, either keeping themselves preoccupied in the moon's post or the now emptied hull.

Either way, Worf wanted no-one but himself and his bottle of blood-wine. Just this once.

"Think you could share that?"

The gruff question had Worf turning sharply in his chair, meeting the gaze of the older Klingon.  
Trun, Worf quickly remembered.

Apparently, the old warrior was willing to make himself at home on Worf's ship. So much so, he'd made his way right up without so much as a request for entry. But, Worf found he wasn't in the mood to go into that too much. Instead, he merely gestured towards another seat not far from him.

Bashir didn't need it now anyway.

The old warrior nodded in thanks as he snatched up a second cup and filled it before sitting. With a quick toast, he threw the drink back in a long draught.

"Today is a sad day in the Empire," the older male replied, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

"Is it?" Worf asked, lifting his cup for a more careful drink.

He didn't know exactly why the older warrior was wanting to drink with him. But, Worf would take whatever he wished to share.

Trun nodded with a grunt. "It is always sad when the Empire loses worthy warriors."

"I imagine a son of Ak would be," Worf replied.

"He is," Trun informed pointedly, taking another deep swallow from his cup.

That caused Worf to pause, dark eyes zeroing in on the greying warrior. Had he heard correctly? A quick glance at Trun's probing gaze told him he had.

"Then, why is he being dishonored?" Worf asked, leaning towards the older male with interest.

Trun immediately shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

"As you were told, he lifted a weapon against another warrior mid-battle," he replied with a deceptive calm as he tipped back his cup.

"I thought he refused to follow orders," Worf argued.

"That too," Trun informed, holding the cup out towards his 'host.'

Worf took the invitation and refilled the cup.

"Then, his judgement is warranted," Worf replied, unhappy with the finding.

"Provided he was even judged," Trun answered glibly.

Worf nearly choked on his drink as he snapped wide eyes towards the old warrior. He couldn't be serious! Every warrior, no-matter their accused crime or heritage, was given the right to go before the Council. It was the Klingon way!

But, if Trun was telling the truth…..

"Why tell me this?" Worf asked, suddenly suspicious of the old male.

Trun merely shrugged again and tipped back his cup, draining it in one long gulp after gulp before clopping the cup on the nearby table.

"Because, I'm an old warrior," he informed proudly as he stood from his seat. "Sworn to the Empire to do my duty, no-matter my thoughts or opinions on it. I do what my honor demands, without fear…..or regret."

Worf held the old male's gaze in respect. He suspected something was wrong too. No, Trun **knew** something was wrong. And, he was giving Worf this one chance to learn the truth.

With a mighty belch that caused Worf to cringe inwardly, the old warrior thumped his fist against his chest before heading back out the door.

"And, now that I've had my amusement," he cheered with a carefree grin. "I shall take my place for guard-duty."

Worf didn't bother to comment one way or the other to the grey male's manners but, the unease he felt over the situation grew to nearly ten-fold. There was definitely something wrong about all of this. And, they were stuck in it. With any luck, Sisko would be contacting them soon.

Worf hoped so. He needed to tell the Federation Captain just what they were dealing with.

SSS

Trun knew his unsteady gate was easy to recognize, even from within the cell. Nilvir's sneer was as well.

"Had enough wine, you old drunk?" the younger male taunted.

Nilvir thought weakness in anything was shameful, even with spirits.

"Jealous?" Trun returned with a challenging smirk. "Come on. Your turn to eat. I'll take watch."

Nilvir snorted with derision. "You'd be lucky to stay upright."

Trun shrugged. "Don't eat then," he countered lightly.

The threat was a useless one, he knew. Nilvir would never pass up the opportunity to eat. The young warrior never went without just because someone else indulged.

With a huff, the younger male stomped off, shoving the key to the prisoner's cell in Trun's weathered hands.

Trun resisted the urge to snarl at the arrogant warrior. He was killing on the battle-field before the fool was even born. But, age had taught him something vital. Sometimes victory was achieved with patience and staying silent. That was something Nilvir would never learn.

Staring at the key to the cell in his hand, Trun took a fortifying breath. This was harder than he thought.

He was loyal to the Empire; he was! He'd given his life to defend and expand it. If this was any-other being, any-other warrior, he wouldn't think twice about this.

But, Trun knew this warrior. Pard was an honorable, fierce warrior who had a glorious future ahead of him.

Warlord Kravus had always thought Pard had too easy a way amongst the warriors or even in training. It was because Pard surpassed the Warlord's son. To hear of the young warrior's downfall, the Warlord had only been too eager to pass judgement.

And, that was the problem. There was no trial. Or, at least, none Trun was aware of. And, he would have been asked to be present for it. He trained Pard!

No! For that warrior to get the justice he deserved, it required a sacrifice on Trun's part. And, there was no-more worthy a sacrifice than this.

With a nodded of determination, the old warrior turned towards the cell and pressed the key to the door's release mechanism.


	4. Part 4

Part 4

The cell door sliding open was the only break in the monotony of Pard's imprisonment.

Not that that brought the young warrior any enjoyment. The last thing Pard wanted to deal with was Nilvir's mindless mocking. He didn't have the time to waste.

However, instead of the idiot guard, Pard saw his old mentor, Trun, swaying slightly as he stepped over the threshold. While an improvement, Pard couldn't deny the sting of resentment at seeing the older male.

Betrayal was a bitter wound to mend.

"What do you want?" Pard snarled, forcing his glare to stay in place through the burning pain on his face.

"Don't feel like seeing an old friend?" Trun challenged lightly.

Pard blinked in suspicious confusion. Was it his imagination or was the grey male's eyes half-lidded? Trun couldn't be drunk, could he?

"What friend?" Pard snapped. "You're doing Kravus' dirty work."

The slight tilt in Trun's gait had Pard glancing quickly towards the still-open cell door. Was he not going to close it?

"You know what happened," Trun answered, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"I'm the only one that does," Pard clipped in return as he shifted in his seat. This could be the chance he was waiting for.

"The son of Ak," Trun sneered, causing Pard to grit his teeth in fury. "The great and mighty House of Ak, brought down by a spoiled, reckless boy. Your father is roaring in shame from Sto-Vo-Kor. And, your mother will be forced from the House of Ak and made to beg for pity for the rest of her days."

"You watch your mouth, old man," Pard warned as he bared his fangs to the obviously drunk warrior. "This isn't finished."

"It's already finished," Trun huffed as he scuffled closer. "You will be thrown to the wastelands where you will either starve to death in dishonor or you can pray the Ancestors hear you in a patched up Mauk-to 'Vor suicide.

Pard clenched his fists as he forced himself not to swing at his old mentor. It couldn't be over. Not yet!  
"Ak's name is now a disgrace," Trun continued. "And, you will beg for his help from the gates of Gre'thor. And, no-one will hear you. Ever again!"

All at once, the fury of the past few days rushed up Pard like a storm in the desert. Without thought, he lunged at the old warrior, knocking him to the cell floor and cracking the back of his thick drunken skull against the smooth surface.

Lifting a fist high above his head, Pard prepared to cave the infuriating male's head in but he froze when he noticed how still the old warrior went.

He was out. Cold!

Despite how much Pard wished he could indulge the need to pummel the impudent warrior, the still open door was a gift he refused to pass-up. Trun's loose blaster was another.

Without delay, Pard grabbed up the weapon and ran for the door. After checking both ways and finding the hall clear, he rushed out of sight.

He needed to get to the surface and from there, steal a vessel. But, first, he needed some insurance.

Pard wasn't an idiot. He was on a Federation vessel and they would drop him in a second, if given half the excuse. The best way to ensure he survived was to take someone with him.

He'd leave them when they weren't useful any-longer. But, the Federation was always hesitant to harm one of their own. That made them the perfect shield. But, who?

The distant echo of voices had Pard suddenly backing up into a nearby corner, blaster at the ready. From the sound of footsteps, the Klingon warrior figured there were two coming. A male and a female, if the voices were any indication.

An amused chuckle from the female had Pard's back stiffening in recognition. He knew that voice. It was the female he heard outside his cell.

"You better hurry back to the bridge," the female encouraged in good humor. "Captain Sisko won't want to delay the news he's reporting."

"And, our Mr. Worf won't want to wait much longer," the male added in amusement.

"Don't judge him too harshly," the female defended, quite tensely, Pard noted. "These are still his people."

"Despite his banishment," the male countered.

"And, if you were in his place?" the female challenged. "Could you just flip a switch and turn it off?"

The male gave a light chuffing. "I suppose not. Still, he needs to realize there may be nothing we can do."

"Maybe," the female agreed. "But, he still wants to try. Anyway, you better hurry. I want to check the hull one more time and make sure nothing was left aboard. I'll be up as soon as I can."

"Alright," the male replied, walking away. "But, don't delay too long. The captain will want your opinion on the matter, too."

"Of course," the female answered as the sound of booted footsteps grew fainter and fainter.

Pard waited till he was sure the female turned the other way and headed in what he assumed was the hull. This was perfect. The hull door opened directly to the outside and there would be no-one to block him.

It was as if Fate itself demanded he follow this path.

Keeping his steps light and quick, the Klingon warrior followed after the retreating female. From behind, he had a hard time placing her origin. She was tall and pale and obviously humanoid in shape. While it was obvious she wasn't Ferengi or Cardassian, she could be anything from Bajoran, to Human to Betazoid for all he knew.

When the female came to a sharp turn, Pard quickly caught a glimpse of the spots dotting down the side of her face and neck. Trill!

That worked just as well as the next. When she got to the door leading to the hull, Pard suddenly lunged behind her, jamming the end of the blaster against her back. The female suddenly stiffened in front of him.

"Don't talk," he hissed against her ear. "Just open the door. Now."

Pard was prepared for a struggle. A good fight would probably be just what he needed, at that point. However, the female merely put in a quick combination and the door slid open.

"Now, what?" she asked, sounding almost amused.

Pard didn't like that she didn't sound the least bit intimidated by him.

"Now, you're coming with me," he demanded as he Gripped her arm in a warning threat and shoved her through the door. "Move."

SSS

"You're sure?" Worf asked the face of his Captain on the Defiant's screen.

The Federation Captain had been longer in responding than the Lieutenant was comfortable but the information was well worth it.

"Yes," Captain Sisko replied with a firm nod. "My contacts took longer than expected but there is no denying what they learned."

Worf shook his head to try and grasp what he just learned. A traitor amongst the Empire's generals! It was unthinkable.

"And, Ak knew of this?" Worf asked cautiously.

"Yes," Sisko replied. "He was aware of possible divisions within the Empire. No-doubt why he was killed in the first place. The Dominion wouldn't let an opportunity like that to pass them by. They would use it as the perfect vehicle to work the Empire to their will."

"But, you stopped the Dominion spy," Doctor Bashir informed from his chair. "You and Worf personally, almost."

Captain Sisko sighed. "Yes, but that only broke the Dominion's hold with the Klingons. This rebellion has existed for years."

"But, what does that have to do with Ak's son?" Major Kira asked.

"It's possible the information Ak knew made Pard a target," Captain Sisko answered. "We can't be certain. There's a chance Ak never told his son his suspicions."

"But, that's a chance we can't take," Worf added firmly. "Especially since we now know he wasn't even given a trial over the crimes he's accused of."

"You're right," Sisko agreed. "Whether Ak told his son anything or not, someone within the Empire wanted him gone. And, came up with the perfect scenario to drive him out, forever."

"**If** that's the goal," Worf suggested, gravely.

"You suspect worse?" Sisko suggested.

"**All** within the Empire have the right to approach the Council," Worf informed. "And, the son of a powerful house like that….."

"Yes, I see what you mean," Sisko agreed. "We need more information. Whether the charges are true or not, we can't let the Klingon's take him off this ship."

"What do you suggest we do?" Major Kira asked, crossing her arms in disbelief.

However, the Captain never had the chance to answer before the internal alarms blared to life on the bridge.

"What is happening?" Captain Sisko demanded as Worf immediately rushed to his chair.

"Security alarm has been tripped," Major Kira called from the screen she was studying. "Someone set it off, purposefully."

"Who's code?" Worf demanded, dread starting to trip up his back as he took in the members of his crew visible.

"Lieutenant Dax's," Major Kira informed, mouth pressed in a firm displeased line.


	5. Part 5

Part 5

"I never really myself as the damsel in distress type but, if you're determined to pursue this…."

"Keep quiet," Pard snapped at the Trill female he'd taken prisoner. A decision he was swiftly regretting.

"What exactly do you plan to do?" the female asked in an irritating light tone.

"That is none of your concern," Pard hissed between clenched teeth as they made their way through the silent post hanger. Seriously, where was anyone?

"Considering I'm along for the ride," his prisoner continued. "I'd have to disagree, Pard son of Ak."

The address was startling in the combination of formality and humor. It was as if this female knew exactly how to speak to them and yet she still held no fear for her own life.

If he closed his eyes, Pard could almost swear he was talking to one of their females; if he ignored the constant smirk her tone held.

However, if he closed his eyes, he also saw the broken form lying prone on the filthy ground. Ground that had been disgraced by what had been done there. Shame and anger raced up Pard's neck, causing him to growl in frustration and to jerk the Trill roughly towards the nearest wall as the approaching sound of footsteps headed towards them.

"You don't have to do this," the female replied in a whisper. "We can help you."

And, immediately Pard was back to the present.

"Save your lies, woman," he snarled low before waiting for the usual patrol to pass by them. "Your Federation promises mean nothing to me."

"Then, what about the word of one of your own?" the female offered with a toss of her head.

Pard snorted before grabbing the woman and dragging her behind him towards the main hatch of the post hanger. That was where they'd find the vessel they needed.

"You mean the traitor?" Pard sneered. "That Federation-loving fool who abandoned his own people when they needed him most? I don't put much faith in those allies."

"Would you rather that 'Fool' have joined the rest of you in the Dominion's manipulation?" the female quipped in return, irritation sharpening her tone. "It is because of him you were freed from their control and the truth revealed."

Pard stilled as he narrowed his eyes on the female behind him. He'd heard the stories from witnesses of the event. How Worf and other Federation spies has disguised themselves and sneaked into the testing trials of the Honor Guard.

He'd heard of how the Dominion spy was revealed, one of the Chancellor's trusted generals. But, he'd also heard how Worf had taken on the Chancellor himself in combat. And, delayed the kill.

What Klingon did such a thing? If he was half the warrior this female assumed him to be, Worf would have gutted the Chancellor and claimed his title for himself. That just showed how long he'd been in the Federation's control.

"I have no wish to become another of your Federation's toothless beasts to be made to obey," Pard hissed before he caught sight of the vessel he needed. "Come on. And, keep quiet. Unless, you want me to seal your mouth shut for you."

While the Trill didn't seem properly intimidated, Pard was glad she at least knew when to listen. Lifting her chin in silent challenge, she only gave a small accommodating smile as she followed quietly behind him.

When they got to the vessel, a small but fast shuttle that would be inconspicuous as far as Cardassian territory was concerned. However, he'd have to be cautious once he reach the Empire once again.

But, that was a problem for another time.

Crouching up against the side of the hull, Pard quickly pride off the paneling by the vessel's hatch, working to try and trick the vessel into opening for him. Unfortunately, the task was taking longer than he was comfortable with.

"You should know, this isn't going to work how you want it to," the female whispered beside him, causing Pard to sigh forlornly to himself.

Why was she still talking?

"Even if you manage to make it off the base, where do you intend to go?" she asked. "You can't just walk into the Klingon Empire. By now, word of your disgrace will have spread and they'll be looking for you to try and get back in. And, the only other governing power is the Cardassians, your enemy in recent war. The Federation, however, may be willing to give you sanctuary till you can come up with a plan."

"I have a plan," Pard snarled as one of the wires sparked in his hands, causing him to have to readjust his method.

"Yes, I see that," she continued with an unmistakable sarcasm. "You're going to steal an enemy vessel and fly it back to the people who will kill you on sight. And, do what? Fight your own people till you die in space?  
'At least send word to someone who can help you from the inside."

The immediate brightening of the vessel's inner lights and the door hatch sliding open had Pard rising to his feet, aiming his blaster at the female.

"Get in," he ordered, his face starting to throb again.

The female looked as if she would protest but, before she had the chance, a blaring siren sounded through the hanger, causing the pounding in Pard's head to turn stabbing.

"That's the post's security," the female called as she rushed to his side when he started to stagger. "These are Cardassian vessels. They're rigged to trip the alarm when hijacked. They'll be coming to get us soon."

Pard wasn't sure if the ringing in his head was the alarm or his own injury. It hurt like hell but he couldn't get caught now. He was so close!

With an enraged snarl, he quickly shoved the female through the hatch door and leapt in after her. Slapping against the control panel by the opening, he waited till the door shut before rushing to the driving controls.

"You need to stop," the female snapped, brow furrowing in displeased aggravation. "The Cardassians have found you. No-doubt the rest of my crew know I'm gone too. You aren't making enemies that are unnecessary."

"What is unnecessary," Pard growled as he started up the vessel's engines, "is your constant talking. Keep your mouth shut or I will toss you out of this vessel in deep space. Do you understand me?"

The heating of the vessel's engines gave Pard hope as they started to rise from the hanger floor. Turning it towards the entrance was easy enough. The only obstacle was the hanger door. Luckily, Pard knew exactly what was necessary.

"You can't mean…." The female gasped in shock.

Apparently, she understood his plans too. Lunging towards him in desperation, the female tried to grab the controls from Pard's hands. However, he was still stronger, despite his condition, and he quickly threw her off him. When it seemed she might come in for a second attack, Pard quickly swung a sharp crack across her temple, causing her to crumple to the vessel floor behind the pilot's chair.

With the rare opportunity, Pard fired the vessel's phasers to the hanger door. It barely took the first round of attacks to break the seal, causing the barrier to break and collapse in on itself, pulling all air in the open hanger towards the damage.

With a smirk, Pard flew through the new opening, with the practiced expertise of threading a needle. Let the Cardassians and Federation deal with this. He had more important things to do.


	6. Chapter 2: Part 1

Chapter 2: Part 1

"Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on here?!"

Major Kira resisted the urge to cringe as she looked the Cardassian captain of the post in his glaring face.

She hated this part of her job! Why did she have to be the one to be the in-between with the Cardassians of all people? However, it was her duty as the First Officer of the Terok Nor. So, she swallowed the snide remark tripping on her tongue and leveled a calm gaze on the infuriated Captain.

"I assure you, Captain, we didn't intend for this to happen," Kira replied evenly. "And, we are taking every effort to correct the incident."

"Incident?!" the Cardassian snarled from his seat behind the desk separating the two. "I had a breach in the post' hanger. I have three vehicles piled on each other in crushing damage from the force of open space. I have several reporting to medic centers all over this post due to injuries from the breach. Don't tell me this was an incident!"

Kira supposed she could give him that. It wasn't an incident. What had happened was a complete and utter disaster.

They'd lost the Klingon prisoner and a member of their crew had been kidnapped and taken in a stolen vessel; a damaged stolen vessel if Kira remembered the gathered information correctly. While the Klingon had gotten the vessel clear of the hole in the hanger door, he'd apparently not taken the perimeter beam of the post into account.

He'd slammed right into it and the force of impact had caused the ship to veer off its original course and head towards the open wastes of the moon. Hence why Worf was currently following at near break-neck speed to catch the reckless male.

Kira just hoped he was able to recover Lieutenant Dax. A damaged vessel wasn't just dangerous to its surroundings. The passengers were also at risk.

"And, if that didn't make this bad enough, I also have Klingons to deal with," the Captain continued without delay. "Klingons! You do recall we have been at war with them, don't you, Major?"

"Believe me, Captain, I'm well aware of whom you are or have been at war with," Kira quipped sharply, eyes glaring coldly at the Cardassian across from her.

It was an unnecessary attack, she knew that. But, Major Kira's patience was only able to go so far.

This captain was a member of the race that butchered and enslaved her people, for Prophets' sake! If it was up to her, the Klingons could have them!

But, that wasn't her call. And, Kira wasn't fool enough to think the Klingons wouldn't see the opportunity to continue on once they claimed the Cardassian territories.

Thankfully, the post captain was quick to realize his slip and quickly cleared his throat in embarrassment as he continued on.

"Yes, well," he quickly coughed through, "you can also understand that Klingons on this station are creating tensions amongst the residents. For all we know, the Klingons could be preparing for an invasion here."

For all he knew. Still, Kira just shook her head with a forced, comforting smile.

"I assure you, they just want to fulfill their duty and return to their base," she replied calmly.

"A base occupying our planet," the captain snapped bitterly.

"The Federation is doing everything possible to negotiate the release of their conquered territories," Kira reassured. "But, in the meantime, cooperation is necessary."

"Don't tell me what is necessary, Bajoran," the captain sneered. "Just make sure this mess is picked up. Immediately!"

What else could she do?

There was no use in arguing with the irate captain. Cardassian or not, he was furious and unwilling to be reasoned with. So, Major Kira merely smiled and nodded in response before she rose from her seat and made her way out of the office.

Worf had better be able to fix this. She certainly wasn't doing much to repair the damage.

SSS

Jadzia had no idea what was happening but her head was spinning like a top.

On top of that, there was a horrible banging somewhere that was driving her crazy. She only hoped it wasn't just in her head.

Cautiously opening her eyes, Jadzia found the light inside the vessel wasn't too bright for her. That was good. It also gave her the courage to sit up as she waited for her head to settle.

When the pounding persisted, Jadzia was glad to conclude it wasn't in her skull. However, that brought about a new set of worrisome possibilities.

Snapping wide eyes about, Lieutenant Dax searched to spot the Klingon and to see if the main screen was visible. Were they still in flight? Had they landed? She had to see what was visible.

However, the screen was shuttered, cutting off any chance of Jadzia mapping the stars surrounding them or if they were even in flight. That wasn't helping. And, neither was that damn banging!

Looking behind her, the young Trill froze as she tried to grasp what she was seeing.

The Klingon, Pard she quickly corrected, was at one of the main internal panels of the ship, the guts of which were spilling out of the open hatch and piled on the floor at his feet while he furiously struck at the inner workings with what Jadzia could only guess was a hammer of some sort.

And, he wasn't exactly being careful about it.

"Oh, you're awake," Pard muttered as he glared accusingly at her, as if it was her who had ripped the lining out of the wall.

However, he quickly returned to his venting with the tool.

Jadzia sighed as she sat herself up higher, relieved to find her wrist and ankles unbound. Either the Klingon didn't see her as a viable threat or he didn't think to restrain her. Given his obvious temper, she was inclined to believe the latter.

Really, what was he even doing?

"Is there a problem?" she asked lightly, hoping to ease the situation with amusement.

Apparently, the warrior didn't appreciate the shot at humor.

"No, I'm doing this for the exercise," he snarled in open frustration.

Jadzia shrugged with a smirk. "Well, at least you know what you're doing."

That caused the Klingon to pause mid-bang, having him slide sharp, dark eyes in her direction.

"Are you saying, you do?" he challenged in hard tension.

Jadzia just gave her knowing smile. "I'm saying, you probably shouldn't bang around in there," she replied calmly. "We still need life-support, I'm assuming."

That was enough. Without hesitation, the Klingon moved away from the wall, tossing a snorting grunt in her direction as he stomped by her.

"Where are we?" Jadzia asked as she watched him glance over the main controls.

Pard, however, didn't look like he had any intention of telling her. Probably to keep her imprisoned through ignorance. No-matter.

The fact he was quick to act on the possibility of losing life-support, told Jadzia more than he realized. They weren't on a planet. Then, they're only options were either open space or still on the moon's surface.

Considering, she couldn't hear the hum of engines in flight, Jadzia was quicker to believe the latter. Then, that meant they could still be found. Either by the Federation or the other Klingons.

She had to do something, quick. Especially since Cardassian vessels were famous for their cloaking abilities.

"What happened back at the post?" Jadzia asked as she cautiously rose to her feet. "How'd you make it out?"

Pard snorted in derision as he moved to another place to pry open the paneling.

"I shot our way out," he gloated, thumbing the many wire cords he displayed. "Despite your interference."

"I was trying to keep us alive," Jadzia informed as she carefully dropped herself into one of the nearby control seats, rubbing the back of her neck. "Cardassians have protective shields in case of attacks."

"On the outside," Pard snarled with a huff.

Jadzia resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she leaned heavily on one arm, letting her thumb press the button on the side of the chair to activate the tracking pulse.

"And, I'm guessing you found it," she replied wryly.

Pard's delay was all the answer she needed. They had struck a defense barrier and damaged the ship. It must have been pure luck Pard was able to land.

"Look, I know this looks bad," Jadzia reassured. "But, it's not too late. You can still go back peacefully and this can be fixed."

Pard snorted in frustration before refocusing on the inner cords.

"I know what happens if I go back," he huffed. "I'm not that stupid."

"I thought Klingons weren't afraid to die," Jadzia teased, causing the warrior to glare in her direction.

"I'm not afraid," he snarled in open animosity. "But, I'm not dying for their dishonor. For a crime I never commit. And, I certainly am not trusting the Federation to defend my case!"

"Then, fight it," Jadzia replied. "Go to the Council, let them hear your case again."

"Again?!" Pard sneered in derision. "They never even heard it the first time!"

That caused Jadzia to freeze as she stared at the furious warrior. No-wonder he was acting so reckless, even for a Klingon. However, this quickly shifted her tactics.

"Then take it to them," Jadzia encouraged. "We can help you. Pard, if you didn't do anything wrong then that means you can state your case. All you need is proof."

"Listen to her," a deep voice ordered from across the open vessel, snapping both residents' attention to stare at the lone officer aiming his phaser right at them. "It's the only chance you have."


End file.
